“Wot’s to do?” said Tom, staring at his rescuer.
“You’re all right,” repeated Bill. “One good turn deserves another, Tom. You saved my life a few minutes ago, and now I’ve hauled you out o’ the water, old boy.”
The sailor’s faculties seemed to return quickly on hearing this. He endeavoured to rise, exclaiming—
“Any more saved?”
“I fear not,” answered Bill sadly, shaking his head.
“Let’s go see,” cried Tom, staggering along the beach in search of his shipmates; but none were found; all had perished, and their bodies were swept away far from the spot where the ship had met her doom.
At daybreak it was discovered that the ship had struck on a low rocky islet on which there was little or no vegetation. Here for three weeks the two shipwrecked sailors lived in great privation, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and subsisting chiefly on shell-fish. They had almost given way to despair, when a passing vessel observed them, took them off, and conveyed them in safety to their native land.
Such was one of the incidents in our hero’s career.